


Woes of Greek Soldiers

by SotheBalanceShifts



Series: Olivarry Week 2016 Works [6]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Greek and Roman Mythology, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: After a year I FINALLY FINISH THIS, Athenians, Barry did not deserve this shit, British General!Oliver, French General!Barry, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, I need to update more often, King!Oliver, M/M, Modern Day, Olivarry Week 2017, Original Character Death(s), Prince!Barry, Protective Oliver, Revolutionary War Figures, Revolutionary War References, Soulmate AU, Sparta v Athens, Spartans, The oc is very mean, Thoughts of Suicide, day three: soulmate au, historical figures, sorry - Freeform, temporary major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-19 02:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7340935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SotheBalanceShifts/pseuds/SotheBalanceShifts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sparta and Athens. Two of the greatest rivals of ancient times. Two men, two royalties, rose from these two civilizations and, as Aphrodite would have it, fall in love with the enemy. Alas, the Three Fates would not have it so, as an enemy to the blooming relationship rose. In a rage stricken mood, he slaughters the two, the king of Sparta and the prince of Athens. Their love, however forbidden, was said to have been reincarnated every time the two reached the age they met, both remembered.   </p><p>Also: The Olivarry AU no one asked for</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How it all Began

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, things you need to know:
> 
> Oliver is the king of Sparta, Barry is the prince of Athens. Atlemacus is a type of kings-man that wants Barry to be his. 
> 
> This was originally written for Olivarry week 2016, days seven: Soulmate AU, but I kinda left it unfinished... It's finished now, so here it is! Any questions? Ask away! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Oliver swung his sword wildly, trying to prevent the Athenians surrounding him from killing him. Their clever battle strategies always seemed to work. Too many times he had fallen victim to their cunningness and, being the Spartan King, it had brought great aggravation to him. However, he supposed he still had some love for the Athenians. After all, they had the most loveliest prince.   
  
The Spartan King slit a soldier's throat and turned, doing the same thing to the man about to stab him. This continued on for a while, Oliver always being the one who came out victorious. Then Barry entered the damn picture and Oliver had to try his hardest to not kill his lover.   
  
Such beautiful green eyes, such skill with a knife. This man had stolen his heart, and Oliver wouldn't have wanted it any other way.   
  
Barry really didn't do things like this. He really didn't like killing people just for the sake of victory. It was cruel and heartless, and, yet, here he was, slaughtering men like pigs, not bother to even once take into account his victims' family members.   
  
Barry drew another knife and stabbed it into a man's neck without winching. Maybe later, when the adrenaline has worn off, will he look with disgust at the things he's done on the field of battle today. Later would have to wait though, for he had a meeting with his secret lover to attend- and it was not one the Athenian prince was willing to miss.   
  
He turned around and locked eyes with the man he was supposed to rendezvous  with later. The Athenian prince gulped. He really didn't want to fight his lover, but he had to. Barry drew a dagger, having already lost too many of his precious silver knifes.   
  
Oliver killed another Athenian and mentally prepped himself to face the man he loved with every ounce of his heart. Barry gulped once and parred Oliver's strike, opening his mouth.   
  
"How quaint, is meeting on the battlefield like this," Barry said in fluent Egyptian, the words flowing from his parted lips like velvet. Oliver smirked and drove his sword towards Barry's shoulder, only for it to be blocked.   
  
"Our meetings are usually more fierce, my love," Oliver shot back, mentally thanking the gods for the rest of the soldiers around them did not know Egyptian. Barry returned Oliver's smirk and weakly tried to stab his lover's forearm. To the others around them. It seemed like the two were matched and could not kill the other, not that they were purposely hitting place where their significant other could easily parry.   
  
An Athenian yell of 'retreat' forced Barry to end their little play fight. "I will see you tonight, beloved," Barry spoke, casually pushing his leg a little forward so that Oliver could gently cut a small line down his thigh. Now, it had to be done, so that their soldiers would not suspect their forbidden love. Little did they know, Atlemacus, a man who had been pining after Barry, had overheard their entire conversation.   
  
Atlemacus felt his anger levels rising as he looked at the fading back of the Athenian prince with disgust. Loving thy enemy? Why, that was plain treason! Atlemacus growled, push a hand up to fix his maroon colored hair. He narrowed his dark eyes, swearing to take vengeance for the Athenians for Barry's treason.   
  
The muscular man followed the prince closely, calculating when it would be the best time to slit the traitor's throat. After several moments of internal conflict, Atlemacus decided he was to trail the prince when he met with his lover, and once they had finished with their revelry, he was going to kill them both.   
  
-•-  
  
Barry smiled and he rubbed a hand on his beloved's chest, Morpheus having talking his hold on the young Athenian prince. Oliver laid on his back, Barry a pleasant weight on his right side with a hand around the latter's waist. Atlemacus snarled from his place behind a pillar, having see what the two had done. He drew his sword, walking into the room where the two lovers lay entangled in the bed.   
  
"You could have taken me as your lover, my prince," the warrior spoke, startling the lovers awake. Oliver, having his loincloth already on, left the comfort of his lover, taking his sword out of its sheath. "Instead, you took the Spartan King to bed, accepted him as your lover," Atlemacus snarled.  
  
"I suggest you leave now," Oliver cautioned, his sword drawn.   
  
"Hades will be a mercy after I finish with you," Atlemacus snarled towards Barry, a dangerous undertone to his voice. Oliver's eyes widened and his nose flared, his sword raising.  
  
"You have threatened to harm my lover, prepare to die," Oliver stated before charging, only for his death to greet him as the shorter man had stabbed him through the chest. Oliver fell to the floor as Barry screamed in horror. The young prince shot out of the bed after her had messily thrown his tunic on. He grabbed a knife and glared at Atlemacus, a tear running down his porcelain cheek as he charged.  
  
Atlemacus had anticipated Barry, and ran around the young prince grabbing his hand and forcing the knife to take a nosedive toward the elegantly crafted stone floor. He forced Barry to turn around.  
  
"You should have chosen me, prince," Atlemacus chided the young man, running a single finger down his porcelain cheek, a faux expression of love.  
  
"Never," Barry snarled in reply, spitting in the muscular man's face. Atlemacus reeled his face back in shock before rage took over his features. The man narrowed his eyes and tightened his hold on the hilt of his sword.  
  
"Perish with your lover than, traitor," Atlemacus hissed before driving his sword through Barry, pulling the stick of metal out and throwing his on the ground. Barry crawled over to his beloved's side, falling into the same position they were in before Atlemacus had torn apart their happiness. His hand fell onto Oliver's bloodied chest, the sticky liquid organ beginning to paint his hand red.  
  
"We will be together once more, my love," Barry whispered before darkness consumed every edge of his vision and spread like the Black Plague, leaving no spec of color in its wake. Atlemacus smirked to himself as he watched them die, glee consuming his scared body.  
  
A gasp sounded behind Atlemacus, forcing his attention elsewhere. The source of the noise was an angelic woman. She stood in a beautiful blue tunic, her golden hair glowing like the sun and falling into her shoulders impossibly perfect. A light pink glow surrounded her, making her name obvious to Atlemacus. Aphrodite, the goddess of love.   
  
"You have killed love!" She accused Atlemacus, her voice sounding like a million angry angels. The goddess crossed her arms over her chest, walking around the pool of blood and looked onto the slain lovers.  
  
"Your love would have ended the feud between the civilizations of Athena and Ares," she spoke sadly towards the lifeless bodies as if they could hear her, shaking her head before her eyes lit up with anger. She turned to Atlemacus, anger flaring into the air. "But, you KILLED them," she hollered in fury.  
  
"For this you must pay!" The love goddess stated, waving her hand dramatically. "You, too, shall live forever, but you will never find love," the goddess began, looking down at the sword Atlemacus had dropped in fear after discovering her identity. Aphrodite beaconed the sword toward her. She spoke a muttered spell in Greek before speaking once more.  
  
"Once the King of Sparta regains this sword, it will the only thing that kills you. And once the king kills you in front of his love, you will perish and be sent to the deeps of Tartarus," Aphrodite announced, her eyes glowing gold as she exited the room with the sword.  
  
Atlemacus lay dead at the foot of the bed. Now, all the lovers had to do was find each other and Atlemacus's sword before the man killed them once more.   
  
Easier said than done.  
  



	2. Attack, Hold, Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> French Brigadier General Barry Allen had been ambushed by British Major General Alemus Mattiucs, the man whom killed his lover in a different life, British General Oliver Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Historically inaccurate events in the chapter**  
>  ~However, there are some names that I have mentioned that are in the same time and history:  
>  -Continental General Marquis De Lafayette  
>  -Continental Aid Baron Von Steuben  
>  -British Major John Andre   
>  -American Traitor Benedict Arnold 
> 
> I'm pretty sure that I covered everyone I mentioned in the part, and if you want to know more about the people about, you can search them up, or you can ask me and I'll provide everything I've gathered via readings and APUSH class.
> 
> ~Dani!

_ I can’t live a lie... _

Barry ran, his jacket flying off, the complex buttons only a general of the almighty French army of the military genius of the combined forces of General Lafayette and General Rochambeau could contain. He was running, running from something, but what? Was it Fear, with its cold grip drawing you into the depths of anxiety? Or perhaps Death, with his merciless, unforgiving and foreboding grip?

_ I can’t survive another break... _

No, it had to be something else! No one has run from Death or Fear and has escaped them. They are too quick, to precise, too clever to be outwitted by a mere human being. A cold grip and an inescapable fact. So why, Barry, do you run?

_ Please tell me you’ll be there...  _

Tears fly down his cheeks, running free and joining in the wind. His eyes are wild, like those of a zebra running from its death at the hands (well, paws) of a starving lion. Not just wild, broken too. Those were the eyes of broken man, of one who had experienced loss and heartbreak. 

_ Because I need you to bear this pain, too… _

His entire command, dead. Ambushed on the night of Thanksgiving, when they were weak and vulnerable, planning an attack on the British. Barry had fallen asleep on his map, his brain running different possibilities of crushing General Queen’s immovable forces. In total, the small army had at least one thousand men under General Allen’s command, all his responsibility- and he’d failed them all. 

_ Cause when I fall… _

He should have been awake, he should have been planning! (Oh what would Lafayette think of your skills now?) Barry could have been doing a million other things, but he had been sleeping, and when the British attacked, he had been caught off guard. (Lafayette trained you to think, Baron Von Steuben trained you to fight, what you they think of the debacle you put your men in, Barry? Would they see you as a military genius now?) Barry had grabbed his sword and bolted outside, the holster gone by the time he blundered out of the fragile tent, only to have a long silver sword, noticeably British, raised to his pale neck. 

_ I wanna fall into you… _

“Hello, darling, quite a time for you to drop in, isn’t it?” The wielder of the sword spoke, a hint of amusement in the speaker’s tone of voice. Alemas Matticus ( Atlemacus, for time period reasons) laughed, the sword shaking with him, resulting in Barry drawing a sharp breath, stepping back some to avoid drawing blood. General Matticus let out a noise that would be classified as a blooding curling cackle. 

_ But when I fell…  _

“British bastard,” Barry grunted, a sick feeling in his chest, settling in and bringing forth the feeling of panic rushing through his veins, filling him with the feeling of dread. If General Matticus was here, then General Queen was… no, it was not possible. 

_ You were not there... _

“He only wished for me to say that,” the smug general began, mockingly tiling his head to the side in a fool’s attempt of thinking. Only every time his lover was killed did Barry emerge with this feeling of dread and loss. Oliver was dead. He was not killed by the American soldiers. He was killed by a fellow British officer. 

_ And my life fell into despair…  _

“Oh dear me, it seems I’ve forgotten what his last pathetic words were. Quite a pity!” Barry growled at the traitor’s voice. Oliver’s last words were always the same: I’ll kill you next time. Always those five simple words for warning the man that had killed them in their last life. And every single time, he did not accomplish this task. 

_ So, I shall join you in oblivion, beloved.  _

“I’ll bid Major John Andre my condolences that his second could not become a competent general,” Barry smirked, knowing that he had struck a cord in Alemas’ nerves. The man in question snarled, eye narrowing into dangerous slits. (Oh Barry, why do you draw into danger instead of away from it? You need not follow danger around like General Benedict Arnold.) Major John Andre had been a hero to General Matticus, until he had been handed death via hanging by the Continental Army for attempting to aid Benedict Arnold in surrendering West Point. His death had hit Alemas Matticus hard, fueled him to kill more Continental Army Soldiers.  

In his anger, he had not noticed Barry had shifted away from his sword, a mistake a mere private would make. Barry slashed his sword, knocking down the general’s silver one. Then, he did the only sensible thing he had in mind; he ran. 

The darkness has enveloped the Earth since the day it was birthed into this life, running, vigilant and ever so patient. He waits for a stumble, a slip of a foot, a stutter of breath, signaling the incoming death. No mercy, not now, not ever. No mercy for British General Oliver Queen. (Though not titled by the name, being replace by a British one) No mercy for French Brigadier General Barry Allen. (Again, replaced in history by a name more French) 

The darkness caught the running general, in the form of a musket bullet to the back. Death stood over the man, waiting for the running British regular to skewer the dying man. Shouts are heard as the young man runs toward the dying body of a French Brigadier General, his musket bounding along with him as he reaches his target. Poor Barry Allen, too young, too inexperienced to rank up to Major General. The British soldier shakily raised his musket, the bayonet shining in the moonlight.

“At ease, I wish to end this Yank confederate. The American Army shall not help this Frenchman tonight,” Matticus spoke, a dangerous edge to his voice. He unsheathed his sword, give Barry a horrid imitation of pity before he brought the sword down into his chest. 

“My dear general, you shall perish with your lover then, traitor,” The Englishman spoke, driving the sword in further, smiling at the sound of Barry choking on his own blood. In mere seconds, the French general lay dead, and Matticus bent down, slowly patting a little blood that ran off Barry and onto the ground. Alemas reached his hand toward Barry’s cheek and made a mark with the blood. 

“You should have chosen me.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern Day!! 
> 
> Btw, I decided to add one more chapter ;)
> 
> ~Dani

Barry was late, That was an understatement. He had to get to his college class before the professor began the lecture on blood splatter velocity. That was one of the most important part of being a forensic scientist- understanding the physics behind something as simple as a blood hitting the floor. In fact, one could tell so much from blood splatter- such as what direction the perpetrator was running in and how fast they were running away. Also, if you were skilled enough, you could find which way the person was hit or stabbed. Really, it was all quite interesting to Barry.

While Barry was submerged in his thoughts, he accidentally slammed into someone’s powerful chest. The man managed to grab onto Barry before he hit the ground, the latter letting out an ‘woah.’

“Are you okay?” Oliver asked, his chest shaking with laughter at the situation that had just occurred. The brunet nodded vigorously, looking down at his hands to makes sure his coffee hadn’t spilled onto the strange man’s notably expensive shirt- what it silk? Barry couldn’t tell, he had never had silk clothing before.

“Yeah, I just need to get to my class, I’m sorry for bumping into you!” With that statement, Barry ran quickly to Starling City University before he missed the lecture. Oliver gave the retreating back a half smirk, mentally putting the picture to storage for later use.

Months later, Barry ran into Oliver once more, but this time it was at a party that his new friend Sara Lance had dragged him to.

“Woah, careful,” Oliver instructed, catching Barry before he fell, just like the previous time. Barry blushed, embarrassed that he had bumped into the man hosting the party. Barry began to try to break away from the embrace, but Oliver held steady, smirking.

“Hold on for a minute,” Oliver spoke, guiding them both over to a closed off area. “You don’t have classes to get to don’t you?” Barry ducked his head and gave Oliver a small smile.

“No,” Barry replied meekly, silently wondering why Oliver Queen had pulled him out to an abandoned hallway. Well, he soon found out as Oliver dipped his head down to kiss the young man. Barry’s eyes widened as he pulled back, struggling to get out of the man’s grip. Oliver frowned, pulling back as well.

“What?” He asked, a confused expression on his face. Barry nearly slapped him.

“Excuse me, you’re the one who tried to kiss me without my consent,” Barry stated, using his hands to push himself away from the man in front of him. Oliver looked confused for a second before he regained his sense of ‘charm.’

“Oh?” Oliver asked confused.

“You know, there’s this thing called consent. You know, it’s when two people agree to do something with both person’s consent?” Barry snarked, making Oliver chuckle.

“Are you studying to become a cop?” Oliver questioned. Barry bit his lip for a second before replying.

“Sortof, I’m studying to become a Crime Scene Investigator,” Barry spoke with pride, leaning toward Oliver for a few seconds.

“Oh, so then you know the law,” Oliver smirked. “Tell, would it be illegal to leave a gem such as you out with the rest of the party people?”

“I don’t know, you seem to know the answer to the question quite well,” Barry flirted back. Oliver leaned in, so that he could whisper into Barry’s ear. “After all, if I left you out there to all those partygoers, they would gobble you up.”

Oliver teasingly bit Barry’s ear. The man in question blushed, hiding his red face in Oliver’s neck in embarrassment.

“So how about we both give consent here and move this up to the bedroom?”

“Okay.”

From that point on, Barry would go out of his way to visit Oliver’s parties, and they would all end the same way- Barry face down on the bed moaning the playboy’s name in pleasure. Of course, Oliver had no problem with this. Through the course of nearly a year, a relationship formed. Barry felt like he was on cloud nine- up until the point he saw the news report.

“Millionaire’s son, Oliver Queen, has been announced dead after his father’s yacht was destroyed during a large storm. Along with Mr. Queen, the other missing passengers include; Sara Lance…” The news reporter spoke in a melancholy tone, but Barry droned out after the first name was announced. Oliver had left on a yacht, without telling Barry- and with Sara nonetheless. The television sound meant nothing to Barry as he rushed out the door of his Starling City apartment.

Barry ran, his feet a blur underneath him and his vision an artistic mess. Crystal tears raced down his cheeks as he pushed himself faster, urging his body to never stop running.

Because if he stopped, then it would all come true. Oliver would truly be dead, and Oliver would have cheated on him with... Sara.

Oh Lord, Sara was dead too. He could not bear the thought of losing his soulmate as well as his one of his good friends. The betrayal cut him sharper than a knife. Oliver had never done this in their past lives. He was devoted to Barry, always vigilant about the younger man's safety.

One night, in the midst of the Seven Years War when they had met up, Oliver had told him, "I would rather have myself thrown into the deeps of Tartarus than to hurt you." That was a load bull, Barry thought as he stopped near an abandoned building. The building had once stood tall and proud, like Barry had. Also like Barry, the building had been abandoned by those who promised to keep it safe.

Over the course of the next few years, Barry had learned to accept the fact that Oliver had cheated on him. He forgave Oliver and tried to move on, awaiting the man who had killed them in their first life to come and finally kill Barry as well.

Barry finally realized why he and Oliver had crashed into each other all those times- it was fate. Destiny as some would call it. They were together in the time of Athens and Sparta, they were on opposite sides of the Seven year war, on opposite sides of the American Revolution, both French Revolutions, for the Civil and so on and so forth. Barry and Oliver had been on opposite sides for the period that had existed. Yet, they always found each other, and would die the same way- by the man’s hand.

The one thing that bothered Barry, though, was the fact that he could not remember the man’s name nor his appearance. All he could recall was the sword that had been shoved through his chest and the words that followed: “You should have picked me.”

The voice Barry could pick out of a lineup any day. That one voice had brought him pain in lives passed. It had broken Barry and Oliver apart, with a cold smirk.

The brunet stared at the traffic passing below the top of the building he was standing on. Barry had moved back to Central City after Oliver’s death, and here he was, standing at the top of his apartment complex, contemplating life- contemplating something else as well.

How easy would it be for him to just lean over and jump. Then he and Oliver could be reborn and continue the cycle. But, would he truly want to continue the cycle? Barry sure was tired of dying. A ring brought him out of his dark thoughts.

“BARRY, open the TV,” Iris screamed through his phone, causing Barry to laugh and rush down the stairs to his apartment. He opened the tv to the channel Iris instructed him to and promptly dropped his phone.

“Oliver Queen, after being presumed dead for five years turned up alive.”

Barry couldn't believe it, he rushed and gathered a few of his things into a duffle bag and ran to the train station. He had to get to Starling City.

Barry felt tears running down his face as he stood in Oliver’s living room, dripping at a steady tempo off his chin, but he could now bring himself to care. Oliver was standing in front of him, Oliver was apologizing for five years of agony, Oliver was holding out his arms for Barry. Without a second thought, Barry ran straight into his muscular arms, grabbing a handful of Oliver's shirt as he sobbed tears of joy into Oliver chest.

"I'm sorry," Oliver whispered into Barry's hair, tears sitting on the brim of his eyes. Barry have a gargled laugh and looked up at Oliver.

"You're alive, that's all that matters," Barry choked out, his voice heavy with emotions. "Zeus, I missed you so much Ollie," Barry said, burying his face into Oliver's chest once more. Tears finally made their way down Oliver's eyes as he sank into his couch with Barry.

He had screwed up so badly and yet, here Barry was, with Oliver, even after five years of heartbreak. "I love you," Oliver whispered through his tears. Barry looked up once more, a watery smile present on his face. "I love you, too," he said, cupping Oliver's cheeks and finally connected their lips.

 

 


	4. And So It Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what I wrote Olivarry week 2017 day 3: Soulmate au  
> ~Dani

After Oliver had returned from the island, Barry was reluctant to leave the blonde’s side. When he found out that Oliver was running around, playing hero, he had almost left out of anger- he could not believer Oliver was knowingly risking his life. They never got to resolve their conflict as Barry was thrown into a nine month coma because of a lightning strike. When he woke up, the first thing he and Oliver had done was discuss what their plan of action was because, as Oliver said, “Barry, I have lost you too many time and I am not willing to lose you again.”

After a year of them running around as vigilantes, a man had managed to capture Barry, and, in turn, had captured Oliver. The man, once he revealed himself to them, was none other than Atlemacus.

Barry smiled as he looked at Oliver, who was  _ alive _ and  _ breathing _ . His hand was a constant on the blonde’s chest, making sure he stayed  _ alive  _ and  _ breathing _ because  _goddammit_  Barry would not be able to survive if Oliver had left him again. (He had left so many times- whenever Barry had found him, he would sob his heart out.) 

That smile Barry had shown Oliver was gone once he heard Atlemacus- or rather Alex Thompson (Why he choose  _ that _ name of all the other names in the world, Barry would never know) walked into the room, and scowled when he saw the position his two captives were in. 

“You disgust me,” He started, walking over to the table of knives that sat next to the cage Barry and Oliver were currently locked in- how original. 

“I can’t wait to kill you both again,” Alex laughed, but Barry did not pay attention, all he could think of was the sword that stood propped up against the wall- if he could get to that and kill Alex, then he and his soulmate could finally be free of this monster. He could be free of this horrible monster that laughed when he drove a sword through Barry’s chest after he had killed Oliver- that’s what always happened, just like what happened in their first life in Greece; Oliver had been killed first and Barry bled out next to him. Barry wanted to be free of it- he wanted to be able to live his life normally without having to deal with a crazed mad man. 

“To think, Barry darling, the last few centuries had been because you could not follow simple rules of battle,” Alex snorted. “In fact, it should be common sense to not sleep with  _ the person who you are supposed to kill.” _

Barry did not move from Oliver’s chest, rather moving further into his soulmate’s chest once he saw Alex came towards them with a bloodied knife. 

“You know what, I think I’m going to do something different for once,” Alex smirked as he pried Barry from Oliver’s bloody chest- with the state the blonde was in, he could not lift an arm to help his love. Alex threw Barry against the walls of the cage and gave Barry a psychotic smile before driving the knife into his thigh, making Barry scream in pain. 

Oliver looked toward the scene with a squeeze in his chest- weather from the pain he was in or from the sight of his lover being stabbed. He looked Barry in the eyes and then noticed the sword lying against the wall. His blue eyes widened at the sight- the cage was open and Alex was busy with Alex, if only he could get to it- Barry’s toe curling scream broke his thought pattern. Snapping his head over to the man, the once mighty Spartan general watched as blood began to run down Barry’s shoulder. Deciding that he had already died enough times in his soul’s existence, Oliver struggled to get up and began to sneak towards the open door of the cage.

Alex began to turn towards the door but was pulled out of the action by Barry using the arm that had not been stabbed to grab his shoulder, forcing the man to look at him.

“Forgive me for my insolence,” Barry whispered, trying to buy time for his soulmate to get the sword. 

“What are you getting at, Barry?” Alex asked, distracted. All Barry had to do was to keep him occupied until Oliver reached the wall- and with the way he was stumbling forward right now, Barry needed to buy him at least another two minutes. 

“Obviously I choose the wrong person,” Barry told him, staring him straight in the eyes. “You are more muscular up close. From what I recall, you lead with such ferocity.”

“That I did,” Alex boasted, in return making Barry cheer a little on the inside. Alex could never deny a chance to boost his ego higher than it was. 

“I should have gone with you,” Barry whispers, pulling an apologetic face. Alex, finally having the one person he lusted after realizing how much he could give. 

“I would have given you the world on a silver platter. I had planned to overthrow your father and take control of Athens,” Alex confessed, setting down the bloody knife as he spoke. Barry allowed him to place a bloody hand on his hip- no matter how much he cringed on the inside. 

“Gods of Olympus Barry, as soon as I killed that bastard of a leader, I would have taken your hand and you would have had my protection. With me at the helm of Athens, we would have crushed the Spartans. You would have been the most feared consort on Earth. Imagine it Barry; After the fall of the Spartan empire, I would walk through the door with the helmet of the wretched general of their army. You would be so happy that the reason you could not take command of Athens was dead. We would have been happy-  _ you  _ would have been happy. I would have brought you his head on a silver platter as a gift”

Barry looked at Alex for a little while- inside he wanted to slap him and call him a deluded daft bastard. Seeing Oliver standing behind Alex(well, mostly leaning on the sword, but nevertheless he was behind Alex) Barry looked the monster in the eyes one last time, a feeling of satisfaction deep in his bone. It would finally be over.

“I never have and never will love you. Oliver was the one I was with and that’s how it’s always going to be- we are soulmates, back in that room in Greece, and in this room now. I hated every moment you stood in my proximity- I hope you rot in Tartarus,” Barry snarled, causing a confused expression to appear on the mad man’s face before a sword pushed itself through the skin of his chest. Blood from the split skin gushed onto Barry, but the brunet did not mind- the monster was finally dead. He was  _ finally gone _ . 

Oliver helped Barry get the dead body off of his and collapsed next to Barry, pulling the man close. 

“It’s over- he’s dead,” Oliver stated, looking at the body. 

“We’re free to do whatever we want now,” Barry whispered, still shocked that he did not have to be reborn yet another time- nevertheless, he would have found Oliver again and they would fall in love once more. 

“Let’s do something crazy,” Oliver stated, still riding on adrenaline from the kill he made.

“Like what?”

“Marry me, Barry. I want you by my side” 

“I will always be at your side, Ollie- yes, a million times yes.”

When Aphrodite had given Barry and Oliver the ability to be reborn when they were killed, the two men thought they would never be free- and, yet, here they were, having found themselves once again, as they have done in all their past lives, because they were meant to be together. 


End file.
